Chương 5
No accusation.
No defense.
She hated that she appreciated the restraint.
At twelve-forty, Adrian called again.
This time she answered.
Neither spoke for a moment.
Then he said, “How’s your shoulder?”
“Attached.”
A pause.
“Good.”
“That was a joke.”
“I know.”
“You don’t sound like you know.”
“I’m not especially funny when I’m nervous.”
Mara sat straighter.
“You’re nervous?”
“Yes.”
That answer unsettled her.
She had expected authority. Assumption. Instructions.
“What do you want?”
“To explain what I know.”
“On the phone?”
“If that’s what you prefer.”
Mara looked at Nina.
Nina mouthed, Record it.
Mara shook her head.
Not yet.
“Tell me why you knew my mother’s name.”
Adrian breathed out.
“My father died four years ago.”
“I know.”
“After his death, his estate attorney gave me a sealed envelope. It was addressed to me in my father’s handwriting. He had apparently left instructions that it should only be opened after several other estate matters were settled.”
Mara said nothing.
“Inside was a letter about your mother.”
Her fingertips went cold.
“About Lydia.”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
“That they had a relationship.”
Mara stared at the floor.
Nina stopped pretending not to listen.
“When?”
“Twenty-six years ago.”
Mara closed her eyes.
Of course.
Adrian continued.
“He wrote that she became pregnant. He said he believed the child was his.”
“Believed?”
“That was his word.”
“So he didn’t know.”
“He said there had been testing.”
“What testing?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s convenient.”
“I agree.”
The answer came too fast to be defensive.
Mara stood and walked toward the window.
“Why didn’t you find me?”
“I tried.”
She laughed.
“No, you didn’t.”
“I hired an investigator.”
“I’ve lived in the same apartment for thirteen years.”
“I know that now.”
“Then your investigator sucked.”
“Yes.”
She turned.
Nina gave her a tiny approving nod.
Adrian said, “The information my father left was old. Your mother had changed jobs. Some records were incomplete. The investigator found a Lydia Reyes in Florida and another in New Jersey. By the time we connected the correct address, your mother had died.”
“And me?”
A pause.
“He found you.”
Mara’s stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
Her voice changed.
“So you knew where I was.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my name.”
“Yes.”
“You knew where I worked?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Nina’s eyebrows rose.
Mara stepped away from the window.
“And you did nothing.”
“That’s correct.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t know what right I had to walk into your life with my father’s confession.”
“It wasn’t your choice.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. Because you made it.”
Silence.
Mara’s heart was beating hard now.
“You had eight months.”
“Yes.”
“My mother was dead. I had nobody to ask. You had information about my life, and you sat on it.”
“Yes.”
“At least argue.”
“I don’t have an argument.”
That made her angrier.
“Everyone has an argument.”
“I thought I was protecting you from my family.”
“Congratulations.”
“I was wrong.”
Mara rubbed her forehead.
“Why did Celeste know?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were engaged to her.”
“Not anymore.”
Mara stopped.
“What?”
“The engagement ended last night.”
“Because she hit me?”
“Because she knew who you were.”
Mara looked at Nina.
Nina silently mouthed, Damn.
Adrian continued.
“Or knew enough to recognize your family before I did.”
“You recognized a necklace.”
“I recognized the locket.”
“From the photograph.”
“Yes.”
“Send it.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
Within ten seconds, her phone buzzed.
Mara opened the image.
Her mother was younger than Mara had ever remembered her.
Maybe twenty-eight.
She stood outside what looked like an office building, dark hair loose over one shoulder, laughing at someone beyond the frame.
Around her neck was the oval locket.
Mara enlarged the image.
The falcon crest was visible.
So was a man’s hand at the edge of the photograph.
A gold wedding band on his finger.
She felt sick.
“Who took this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your father was married.”
“Yes.”
“To your mother.”
“Yes.”
Mara lowered the phone.
“Did she know?”
“I don’t know.”
“My mother.”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I’d rather say it than invent an answer.”
She hated that too.
“Send me the letter.”
Adrian did not answer immediately.
“Why?”
“Because it’s about my mother.”
“It contains things about my father.”
“That stopped being persuasive around the time you had me investigated.”
Silence.
Then he said, “I’ll send it.”
“Not pieces.”
“The entire thing.”
“Every page.”
“Yes.”
“And I want the original eventually.”
“That belongs to you as much as it belongs to me.”
Mara sat.
Something inside her loosened and tightened at the same time.
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you already know how to be my brother.”
The line remained quiet.
When Adrian spoke again, his voice was lower.
“I don’t.”
Mara ended the call.
The letter arrived seven minutes later.
It was eleven pages.
She read it at the kitchen table while Nina made toast neither of them ate.
Gideon Vale’s handwriting was small and impatient.
He did not write like a man asking forgiveness.
That bothered Mara.
He wrote facts.
Dates.
Meetings.
Amounts of money.
He described Lydia as intelligent, stubborn, private.
Mara hated him for getting those things right.
He admitted the affair.
He said Lydia had refused to continue seeing him after discovering his wife was pregnant again.
He said she contacted him months later because she was pregnant herself.
He wrote that a private blood test after Mara’s birth had established paternity “to my satisfaction.”
No laboratory name.
No result attached.
He wrote that he had created financial arrangements for Lydia and the child through attorney Philip Harrow.
Mara stopped.
“Harrow.”
Nina came closer.
“Celeste’s dad?”
Mara kept reading.
The letter said Gideon had been told Lydia wanted no further contact and had moved away with the child.
He claimed he respected that decision.
Years later, he tried to contact her and discovered that several letters had been returned.
May you like
He suspected that “certain arrangements had not been carried out as instructed.”
The wording was vague.
